Mamma 'ruma Go Vroom!


abby2_icon.gif huruma_icon.gif

Scene Title Mamma 'ruma Go Vroom!
Synopsis Huruma's been stalking and finally lets herself be seen.
Date May 29, 2009

Greenwich Village

In a time that seems long ago, Greenwich Village was known for its bohemian vibe and culture, the supposed origin of the Beat movement, filled with apartment buildings, corner stores, pathways and even trees. There was a mix of upper class and lower, commercialism meeting a rich culture, and practically speaking, it was largely residential.

Now, it's a pale imitation of what it used to be. There is a sense of territory and foreboding, as if the streets aren't entirely safe to walk. It isn't taken care of, trash from past times and present littering the streets, cars that had been caught in the explosion lie like broken shells on the streets nearest the ground zero. Similarly, the buildings that took the brunt of the explosion are left in varying degrees of disarray. Some are entirely unusable, some have missing walls and partial roofs, and all of the abandoned complexes have been looted, home to squatters and poorer refugees.

As one walks through the Village, the damage becomes less and less obvious. There are stores and bars in service, and apartment buildings legitimately owned and run by landlords. People walk the streets a little freer, but like many places in this scarred city… anything can happen. Some of the damage done to buildings aren't all caused by the explosion from the past - bullet holes and bomb debris can be seen in some surfaces, and there is the distinct impression that Greenwich Village runs itself… whether people like it that way or not.

Abby's not been at work, but seeing as it's friday, it's payday. Which means that she's on her way in to get her check, get her hours for next week and get the hell out. She'll hit the bank tomorrow to cash it. The scooter's gone, it's locked up somewhere till she can get it fixed properly or well, at least looked over. Only thing worse than no scooter is one that might give out on you somewhere.

Hands in her pocket, Red hair back in two braids that fall to either side, she's looking younger than she normally does. There's simmering anger, jealousy, worry, a veritable smorg of emotions around the woman as she walks down the streets of Greenwich and headed for her place of employment.

Weeks ago, Abby might automatically feel better when Huruma sniffs her out- but these days, Huruma is simply left to wrinkle her nose at something that feels like burning on the girl. Like a charred mental bagel. It's different on the outside, but on the inside perfectly fine.

Truthfully, Abby has been followed for most of the afternoon. Only now has Huruma wound back to make her place in the alley near Old Lucy's, waiting beside a monstrous black bike. This is where the parking is, for bikes and scooters. But Huruma's bike? That's new. As Abby comes down the path towards Lucy's, Huruma slinks out of the small lot across the bar to meet the girl in her path, her helmet under one elbow.

"Abigail." The spoken name is somewhat darker than usual. Possibly because of all the emotional stink coming off of the girl.

You say, "Huruma" It would have been a different woman Huruma was meeting if Huruma had done that. But she didn't and so Abigail keeps walking till she nears the woman, pulling up to a stop. "Paychecks in?" She's not even trying to hide her emotional state. That thing Cardinal said, about just pretending everything fine? Well, you can't fool an Empath."

Huruma keeps her eyes downturned on Abby for a few long seconds yet. They seem to stay there forever. "Of course they are." The tall woman tilts her chin to the side, watching the redhead. "I'eard I as no'th'only one taking a vacation, by th'time I got back." Quite right- pretending is not going to do much, and it is obvious that Huruma sees virtually everything wrong with her moods.

"Needed another week off" Abigail offers up. It's true, she did. "Just fetching my pay, i'll be back on Monday, no worries" She starts heading off or trying to head off around Huruma and her helmet. Just ignore her. Just ignore her, just.. Abigail pauses. "Adam's back in town? He didn't leave souviner's at the bar did he?"

Huruma steps backwards on her short heeled boots, apparently keen on following and frankly- not quite done here. At the question, she pauses right back, a small huff coming out of her nose. "He is. No, he did not." Whether or not she is aware of the falling out between Adam and Abby is not apparent either. "You are very …frustrated."

"If he drops them off, give them back to him. I'll be giving you money off my paycheck to give to him, or if he's got a mailbox or something that I can send it to, that'd be better" Of course she's frustrated. "Stuff's happened Huruma. While you were in japan with Adam killing people"

"There is a postal box." P.O. Box 665, probably. Almost evil enough. Huruma's gaze has traveled away, but darts back down to Abby when the verbal accusation comes. A passive one, but yet- "I did not kill anyone." Though her volume is low, the usual hiss that might have come with a retort does not. Huruma knows that Abby knows she isn't the best person. "Obviously tha'is not why I went there."

"I said Adam killing people. If you did, you did. Heavens knows I consort with enough serial killers and criminals, no wonder God's pissed with me" She doesn't want to be followed. It's annoying her as opposed to scaring her.

The aim was never to intimidate- but Huruma's reaction to the annoyance seems to be a little of her own, and a bit of a snip in her words. "God is fickle with his trials. What happened?"

"God took it away" Succinct, simple.

It. It can be many things, but when it comes to Abigail, that means very little options. And either God took it, or something acting did. Smells funny to Huruma. "…God, or something he made?"

"God sent someone to take it away. It all boils down to god" She points out. Finally the young woman stops. "My head hurts Huruma, and I can't get rid of it. Some asshole took it and gave it to someone who doesn't even care that he has it, and likely won't help people with it. Not on purpose and not for the reasons that I did. I got my pastor who's own ability is going on the fritz and he's trying to figure out what God is telling him with it, the Guiding Light got defaced by stupid people who can't understand that they're just as good as people who are evolved"

Taking it, giving it. "While I could tell you t'see this as a test o'faith, Abigail…" Huruma begins like she always does at times like this, but her expression soon creases into irritation. But surely not towards Abby herself. "…I could also say tha'it is not God's doing at all." A long pause, and she considers.

"…Tyler Case, am I correct?" Or, John Doe, technically.

"Everyone knows his name but me. It is His doing, it is a test. It's a crappy test. Worse than loosing a tongue and getting shot" Abigail snaps out, irritated and angry. "He called me Job once. Did you know that? Adam said God needed another Job. To keep throwing thing after thing after thing at him and to see how he handled it. To see if he still had faith" The red head turns around again, to make for the bar. 'And no. I didn't get anything in return. I got nothing."

For the first time in possibly ever- Huruma blatantly steps after Abigail's trail. And for that first time, it is quite possible that she may feel that natural fear of being chased. But only for a moment. "I am looking f'him, Abigail." Huruma knows the danger of even saying that much, growling her words. "An'it may be 'crappy', bu'there are far worse tests of faith."

"everyone is looking for him. Company is looking for him, Phoenix is looking for him. Richard is looking for him, I'm sure the cops are looking for him. He was in our alley, Sunday night. So, if you want, go look there, or wait there. Or go find some… balding, fat faced man with glasses, you'll find him and don't do that Huruma. Back off. I don't like that being done to me. I don't need to deal with you messing with my emotions right now" The tinge of fear has put the young woman on edge. "I don't like being deceived by Mr. Monroe and indebted to him. I don't like anything right now and really my head is nigh unto bursting and I just want to get my pay and go home."

What nobody ever sees on Huruma's face is a blink of sheer surprise. Not many things surprise her. This did, somehow. What Abby felt was Huruma's natural mode. Abby felt real fear- not the kind Huruma so happily plants in victims.

"I was not …doing anything to you." She's never lied to Abby before, why start now?

"If you weren't… then.." She wasn't. Huruma hasn't lied to her. Abigail just shakes her head, closing her eyes tight. Whatever it was, it's still there and the red head just keeps heading for the bar. 'Then you weren't. have a good night at work Huruma. Don't tell anyone what's happened. I don't need Mr. Monroe thinking he can gallivant around and save me and get into my good books that way. Nobody at work know. Very few people know and I prefer it that way" Cause if she's not ever going to get it back, she doesn't want to see the pity in people's eyes like she'd seen in some already. Or sympathy, whatever emotion people wanted to call it.

"I was getting ready to leave." The woman mutters, voice calming itself down. So why was she here? Not to pick up her paycheck, or there would have been an answer to such extent earlier. She was waiting to see Abby. And lastly, a passing offer of help. "D'you want a ride home?"

Abigail looks over her shoulder at the woman, internally debating before she nods. "Could use dinner too" A subtle hint and invitation to go out and have dinner with the woman if she was amenable.

"Absolutely." Huruma stands back, going into waiting mode with a pleased little tilt of her head. She'll be right here when Abby comes back outside.

Which, while it doesn't calm the red head down, at least someone will be there, and she won't go prowling the streets. Paycheck in hand and being tucked away, Abby falls in beside Huruma. "You can tell me how Japan was when you weren't working with Adam"

Huruma shows Abby over to the bike, pulling free the extra helmet from the back and handing it over. If Adam's ever been on the new bike, yeah, she makes him ride on the back too. Bitch seat! Burn. "…I felt like Godzilla." That almost summarizes the feeling of visiting, at least.

Even Abby knows who Godzilla is. "But I bet you looked beautiful in a Kimono" Abby pointed out, accepting the helmet from Huruma. The bike, she can appreciate and does. Still simmering with that smorg of emotions but at least Huruma has a better understanding of why. "You bought it there or here?"

Huruma does not blush. It's really not possible. But there are times when it can seem as if it might happen- though really, it ends up looking like she is being playful rather than turning any shade of red. Like now, when she shades her eyes with her eyelids and smirks. Moving on. Huruma pulls herself onto the bike, watching over her shoulder for Abby. "There. I …needed a bike." For an epic chase through Tokyo! Ahem.

'The streets are very crowded there, people don't ride cars too often because there's not enough space" That's how she justifies it in her mind. Onto the back of the bike carefully she moves, swinging leg over and getting comfortable. For the second time this week wrapping her arms around another person and waiting for the roar and the vibration to take off.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License